“Whoa there,” he said in a deep, slurred voice. The scar on his neck stood out in stark contrast to his tanned flesh. Tattoos peeked out from under the hem of his motor oil stained shirt, and the leather cut he wore was faded and worn, but he clearly wore it with pride. The patches said he was a member of The Brothers of Menace, and she knew he wore that little piece of fabric with hardcore love—what love a biker that lived an outlaw and illegal existence could give.
“I’m sorry.” Oh, she knew who he was, had seen him getting a blowjob from one of the skanky girls that hung around as soon as she’d walked in the front doors of this clubhouse all those weeks ago. Although Bobbie didn’t deny the club members sex when they asked, her friend hadn’t been with Tuck. Jana had asked Bobbie shortly after her arrival, but felt foolish for even asking her friend because why should she care? But there had been this weird relief that filled Jana after she heard that.
“No need to apologize. In fact, I’m in need of some company tonight.” The sound of Tuck’s voice, of the clear arousal laced in his drunken, slurred tone, had Jana tingling in every erogenous zone in her body.
A part of her wanted to just melt into this man and say yes. But the other part of her, the stronger one, told her this was a man that was used to getting his way, slept with any and all women, and didn’t care about her or what she stood for, only wanted between her thighs. Jana pulled out of his loose hold, shook her head, and knew that temptation was a thick enticement. It wasn’t something she couldn’t play with, couldn’t be something she risked because she had to look out for her little man, and the future that wasn’t looking too bright right now.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his gaze locked on hers. “I’m drunk, and that was a cock thing for me to say.”
She shook her head, not sure if she was more surprised that he’d asked her for sex, or that he actually apologized because of it. Jana moved past him, went into the room she was sleeping in while she stayed at the clubhouse, and closed her eyes. God, she needed to get it together, because if not she could easily give herself to a man, a biker that was so not good for her.
Chapter Ten
Violet knew her eyes were large as she stared at Cain. God, she was so wet. They had moved into her bedroom, and now she was on her back, staring up at this man, and wanting nothing more than to feel his powerful body over hers. He was still so hard that she knew he must like what he saw. He took a step toward her, and she swallowed. Her breasts were thrust out in invitation, but he didn’t touch them. Instead he dropped to his knees between her thighs, placed both his hands under her ass, and lifted her to his waiting mouth. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat. The feel of his warm breath skating across her pussy could have made her come right then.
The sight of his face made up of harsh lines, the danger that surrounded him, had every erogenous zone in her body lighting up. He had to know the effect he had on her. Oh, his tongue did wicked things to her body. Cain used that muscle to run up her center, sucking her wetness off and causing more to come from her. He was so incredibly slow with his ministrations, so agonizingly slow with licking her pussy, that she found herself pressing closer to him¸ trying to tempt him to give her more. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own and gripped handfuls of his hair. And when he pulled back, breaking the spell he had on her, she groaned.
“I want to go slow, know you need that, but it’s fucking hard, baby.”
She panted and watched him. “I just want you.” The arousal still pounded through her bloodstream, crying out for more.
“Place your feet flat on the bed, and spread your legs, Violet,” he said softly, huskily.
She did as he asked because heaven knew she needed his mouth back on her. And when she was in the position he wanted he smoothed his hands up her legs, framed her pussy with his hands, and resumed licking her. With her eyes closed, her body arched for him, and there were no flashbacks of that horrid night almost ten years ago. There were no memories of what Carl had taken from her. There was only Cain and her right now.
His tongue moved up and down her slit, teasing her clit on the upstroke and pressing minutely into her hole on the down stroke. Her legs shook with the need to come. She was close, but he was torturously slow, bringing her close to climax but not exerting enough pressure to actually bring her over the edge. Perspiration started to coat her flesh as she tried in vain to hold off on coming, and prolonging this experience. All she wanted to do was grip his head and shove it more deeply into her pussy. Air left her mouth in moans and gasps. She couldn’t stop thrashing her head back and forth, couldn’t stop pressing her pussy to his mouth.